


Sticky Outy Bits - Or - In which Jensen is very Jealous and Misha is very Bendy

by BrielleSPN



Series: Cockles smuts and stuffs [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And I just noticed that I spelled 'Challenge' wrong but I'm not redoing all the tags to fix it, Bottom Jensen, Cockles, DAS Challange, Dom Misha, Fiumicino Airport in Rome, Fuck that., I Don't Even Know, I promise..., Jensen is Jealous, Jus in Bello Convention, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Misha is Bendy, Praise Kink, Sub Jensen, The fic is better than the tags, There is Beer..., Top Misha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:59:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3819685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrielleSPN/pseuds/BrielleSPN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kissing Misha was like dancing in a hurricane. It lifted you up, spun you around, and deposited you out the other side with no real memory of exactly what had happened, leaving you lightheaded and dizzy with only the vaguest sense that you had been hit by a force of nature.</p><p> </p><p>[[Fic includes links to videos, gifs and photos to enhance your reading experience]]</p><p> <br/>~x~<br/>For My DAS Chickydees, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE… (I’m not going to out you, who do you think I am… Jared? ;) )</p><p>Unbeta'd, so all fuck-ups are... Well, you know how it goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sticky Outy Bits - Or - In which Jensen is very Jealous and Misha is very Bendy

Jensen sat gazing out the row of large picture windows that made up the feature wall at [ _Le Anfore Lounge_](https://www.loungeclub.com/en/our-lounges/lounge-detail/FCO) at [Fiumicino Airport](http://www.rome-airport.info/) in Rome. He watched as a plethora of different boats drifted and paddled and sped past, making a mental note to take the C&D out for a cruise sometime soon. If he ever found the time that was. He sighed heavily and swiveled his stool around to face the bar, motioning the bartender over with a wave and ordering another [Lagavulin](https://www.masterofmalt.com/whiskies/lagavulin-16-year-old-whisky/). Nursing the superb 16 year old whiskey, he sang along softly to the song playing in the background--Elton John’s ‘ _[Blue Eyes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4CiyKeSnSxk)’--_ a personal favorite for… well, reasons. Yeah it was cheesy as hell, but so what, he liked cheesy.

Spinning back around, he let his eyes drift over the room, actively seeking the man he was unconsciously drawn to in every space they occupied, in every country they visited, in every moment they spent together. Sipping appreciatively at his whiskey as he searched, he rolled the liquor over his tongue and hummed in pleasure as his refined palate detected seaweedy, slightly medicinal notes, along with a smoky undertone.

 

Ahhh, there he was.

 

Misha was sitting on the opposite side of the room, eyes lit up and sparkling with humour as he chatted animatedly to the person seated next to him. He watched Misha enjoy his own drink, a cheap beer brand that he seemed to favour when in Italy that Jensen personally thought tasted like piss, but it seemed to make Misha giggly and affectionate, so he sure as hell wasn’t going to start complaining about it anytime soon. Misha took a mouthful of his beer, Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed, his lower lip catching on the lip as he pulled slowly away. Lowering the bottle to the table, his delicate fingers idly circled the rim in a slow dance that immediately held Jensen mesmerised, and he inhaled sharply as Misha dipped a finger into the mouth of the bottle, then out again, repeating the motion several times before moving to the collar and rolling the bottle between his index finger and thumb. He toyed with it briefly, then looping his fingers around the sculpted neck began stroking up and down, pausing after each upstroke to gaze at it thoughtfully, and again after each downstroke to smooth over the wrinkles and folds that puckered the base of the label. Hesitating just below the lip on the next upstroke, he tilted the bottle slightly between his fingertips with a twist, then slowly reached out with the middle digit of his other hand, toying idly with a drop of condensation that had appeared on the lip, snaking a slow trail down the side of the glass. Jensen tracked the hypnotic movements fully entranced, Misha’s one hand ghosting up and down the bottleneck, one single slender finger of his other circling through the beaded condensation in an agonizingly slow dance.

Jensen couldn’t look away. Fuck, he was practically panting.

Blood rushing in his ears, he held his breath, heat pooling in his lower belly as Misha abruptly ceased his ministrations, fingers stuttering to a halt as he twitched the bottle back upright, taking one last swipe at the moisture trailing down the glass and staring at it contemplatively for a moment, before raising his finger slowly to his lips. Jensen followed along helplessly, eyes settling on Misha’s mouth just as his tongue snaked out to lick the moisture off the tip of his finger…

And Jensen let go his breath with a heave, the air expelling from his lungs in a single, painfully loud whine. Heart racing, he bowed his head, closing his eyes to centre himself and calm the blood pounding through his skull. He shook his head, palming the back of his neck and took a few deep breaths, counselling himself to relax. It was just a damn  _beer bottle_. It wasn’t like Misha was doing it  _deliberately_  to fuck with him. It totally wasn’t Misha’s fault that Jensen’s thoughts immediately ratcheted up the scale from 0 to 100 in mere seconds whenever he was near. When he finally felt composed enough to open his eyes and look up, he nearly fell off his chair because Misha, and those piercing sapphire orbs, were staring straight back at him.

His mind blanked momentarily, and he couldn’t remember what he was doing immediately prior to blue eyes. Conscious thought returned abruptly however, his cheeks instantly flaming as a particularly vivid memory of what he and Misha had gotten up to the night before slammed into his head. Crossing his legs to hide the burgeoning evidence of his reaction to Misha’s little show with the bottle, followed by his own marauding imagination, he tried desperately to arrest  _that_  train of thought in its tracks before he ended up with a ‘situation’ he couldn’t possibly hide.  _Holy fuck_. He and Misha had been involved for over 5 years now and had danced around each other for a year or so before that, you'd think he'd be able to watch the guy drink a fucking beer without getting all hot and bothered.

 

He thought about the past few years, they'd been amazing. Well… mostly. They'd hit a [stumbling block](http://jensenacklesmishacollins.tumblr.com/post/82143546173/i-was-directed-here-to-ask-about-the-cockles) a year or so in when Jensen had had a brief but intense gay freakout, and things had been pretty tense for a while between them. Misha, not understanding why Jensen had even  _had_  a problem, had been hurt and in no small part bitter at Jensen’s need to 'find himself'. For Jensen’s part he had been confused and angry at Misha for upsetting his safe, apple pie life, and replacing it with this chaotic, whirlwind of one, and subsequently rocking his world to its very foundations. He had bolted, taking Dani home to Texas for an extended visit, hoping that being in the bosom of his family would right his equilibrium and restore his life to some semblance of balance. He had been there a month, the show having been on hiatus, and had found himself hunched miserably over his expresso one morning, indulging himself in an epic sulking session, when he was suddenly slammed with the epiphany that [ _he loved Misha_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vX5IQtFzjZY) and didn't want to live a life that didn't have him in it. He’d immediately packed up, leaving Dani behind with his parents, and flown to LA, turning up on Misha’s doorstep a bent and broken man, ready to get down on his knees and beg Misha to forgive him if that’s what it took. And it very nearly did. In fact it had taken a LOT of convincing, Misha had pretty much given up on him, so Jensen had set about 'wooing' the older man, eventually convincing him that he was serious about committing to their relationship. Somewhere in between the apologies, the grand gestures and the talking (he still wasn’t  _quite_  sure what had flipped the balance in his favor), he had managed to make Misha understand that he was in it for the long haul, and Misha had ultimately had his own moment of realisation that he didn't want a life that didn't include Jensen either.

It had been rough, but they'd gotten through it, and aside from the usual relationship issues, they’d been together ever since. It was different, sure, but it worked for them. They were happy. Their friendship was good, their relationship better. And the sex?  _Well_. The sex was... Jensen shifted uncomfortably in his seat, uncrossing and recrossing his legs in a wasted effort to try to gain relief from the tightness in his slacks any thoughts in  _that_  direction typically provoked.

 

Apparently having noticed his predicament, Misha raised an eyebrow at him across the room and smirked.  _The bastard_. He watched as Misha turned away and said something to the guy sitting next to him. ( _Osric. It was Osric. How the hell did he not notice the kid was sitting_   _right there_?) Misha laughed at the face Osric made in response to his comment, then clapped him on the shoulder, grabbed his half full beer and rose, making his way slowly across the bar toward Jensen, stopping to chat with some of the guys as he passed them. They were getting ready to hop the flight home to the US, and the SPN guys had pretty much commandeered the business class lounge to relax in before they were called for boarding in, Jensen glanced at his watch, less than an hour.

Hugging his beer to his chest, Misha moved through the group easily. A chuckle here, a one-armed hug or shoulder pat there. Sebastian leered at him as he passed and made a crude gesture, it looked as if Seb was already half cut to the wind and well on his way to being fully tanked.  _No surprises there_. Misha just rolled his eyes and flipped him off as he slid past, and Seb collapsed into laughter, turning away to molest someone else.

As he slipped behind Rob however, the other man spun on his heel and grabbed Misha up in a hug, reaching one hand around Misha’s neck and pulling him in to plant a [kiss ](https://youtu.be/v_wf-l-BO68?t=1m50s)smack on his lips. Misha giggled and Rob started to back away, but Misha grasped Rob’s face and pulled him back in, landing a noisy kiss of his own on the older man.

Jensen felt that kiss like a punch to the gut and his vision clouded in a red haze.

He threw back the rest of his whiskey and rose from his stool abruptly, the ice left in his tumbler clinking harshly against the side of the glass as he plonked it down on the bar with, granted, maybe a  _little_  more force than was warranted, and with not even so much as a glance at Misha, strode out of the bar. He didn’t know where he was headed, he just knew the ugly clench in his gut felt wrong, and he needed to be away from that scene until he could sort through the uncomfortable feeling.

 

He hadn’t gotten far before Misha was beside him. He didn’t even need to look to see who it was. He inhaled deeply and sighed. In an airport packed full of people and noises and smells, there was only one person in the world who could make him ache at the mere scent of him.

“I saw that Jen.” Misha spoke gently, but there was no mistaking the amusement in his tone.

“Saw what?” he snapped, cheeks flushing pink.

Misha eyed him thoughtfully, unconsciously matching his stride to Jensen’s. “Jealousy becomes you,” he mused quietly. “I could get used to this.” he teased, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and bumping Jensen with his shoulder.

Jensen froze in his tracks so abruptly, Misha took a few extra steps before realizing he’d stopped walking. He turned back toward Jensen questioningly, smirk plastered across his face, their [shared black leather jacket](https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSUHFQ5BbnAqaVt8ErD7ZlP8WhHyCr69SRWWneU5nw6i4mCQTIpvw) dancing around him as he turned and coming to rest on his hips.

“Yeah well I’m sick of it.” Jensen ground out. “You’re always doing shit like that, trying to get a reaction out of me. Well you got one. You happy now?”

Misha’s face fell and Jensen immediately felt a twinge of guilt. Not enough to dismiss his irritation mind you, but enough that he wanted to reach out smooth the worry lines that had appeared on Misha’s brow. His fingers twitched to do just that and he jammed them in his pockets, stopping himself.

They stood a few feet apart, the noise and crowds around them ceasing to exist as they stared at each other.

“Jen-”

“No, Mish.” Jensen huffed out a breath and worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s ok. I’m… Look, I know you’re used to this type of,  _arrangement_ ,” he muttered, “but I’m not. And stuff like that? It…” He trailed off, at a momentary loss for words.

“Hurts?” Misha prompted gently.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry Jen.” Misha pulled a hand from his pocket and stepped back toward him, reaching out and [running it down Jensen’s arm](http://33.media.tumblr.com/4681afd5685d87972b1a11d68e44f90b/tumblr_nfucn0Tolh1tm348qo1_500.gif), graceful fingers lingering briefly on the back of his hand still tucked in his pocket, before dancing away to worry the back of his own neck. “I forget sometimes you haven’t done this before,” he mumbled, shuffling back and forth adorably in place. Jensen melted, the tension immediately draining out of him at the sight of the other man’s obvious discomfort. Who was he kidding anyway? He could never stay angry at Misha for long, the man was just too damn lovable.

“Hey it’s cool man.” He smiled gently, “Just…” he hesitated for a second, releasing his hands to run them through his hair and over his face, then blurted out all at once, “No more kissing anyone but Vicki ok?”

Misha’s relief was obvious, he relaxed visibly and Jensen immediately felt better. Then Misha grinned cheekily and winked. “No one but Vicki huh?”

Jensen felt his cheeks flame and suddenly found an interesting spot to study near his feet. He concentrated on it, mumbling inaudibly, “Yeah, well… and…”

“Yes?” Misha probed, ducking his head to try to catch Jensen’s eye.

Jensen looked up from the floor, finding Misha’s eyes and holding them. “Me, Mish.” He said firmly. “No one but Vicki and me.”

 

The crowd flowed around them like a tide, the language of Italy rising and ebbing unrelentingly. But they didn’t hear any of it. As often happened, they were alone in each other’s presence. Caught up in their [own private world](https://41.media.tumblr.com/68da47b7664badbacd64847a1b563235/tumblr_nddy0yYX2z1s8ygyto9_500.png) as if nothing, and no one else, existed.

 

Blinking eventually, Misha growled “Follow me,” and grasping Jensen’s elbow, steered him off in the direction of god-knows-where. Jensen didn’t particularly care. He just let Misha lead, following along unthinkingly, Misha’s gentle yet controlling hand on his bicep making him ache in ways he’d long since given up on analysing.

 

They ended up in a [supply closet](http://i.imgur.com/8unX35s.jpg) in a fairly deserted section of Terminal 3. Misha scanning the area briefly for security before bundling Jensen in and following him, slamming the door and locking it firmly behind them. Jensen looked around in disbelief. It was dry and clean sure, but it was very,  _very_  cramped. They were almost flush against each other and they were standing with their backs against opposite walls. Well… Jensen was actually leaning against a wall of shelving that had cleaning products and spare rolls of toilet paper stacked on them, but still, you get the drift. It was tiny.

 

Misha took off his jacket and draped it over one of the shelves. Turning back to Jensen he caught his eye they stared at each other for a heart stopping moment, then Jensen launched himself at Misha, covering the small space in a clumsy half-step and almost falling against him.

“Easy there Cowboy.” Misha chuckled, reaching up to steady him by the shoulders. But Jensen didn’t take any notice. Cupping his face, he angled his head down and tucked his nose into Misha’s hair, inhaling deeply. The scent of him, like always – Misha at his core, pure and intoxicating – simultaneously grounding him and driving him wild, unleashing a wild mix of emotions that once upon a time would have confused him, but that he now simply attributed to ‘The Misha Effect’.

Misha nuzzled into his neck and sighed, sliding his arms around to embrace Jensen’s waist and pulled him closer, and they stood there for a moment, just breathing each other in.

Then Misha turned his face into Jensen’s neck, mouthing over the pulse thrumming in his throat, and that’s all it took.

 

With a last swipe of his chin against the crown of Misha’s head, Jensen pulled away, tilting his face and seeking Misha’s eyes, locking onto the blue orbs and drowning himself in them. He ran his thumb across Misha’s jawline, followed it with his lips, and Misha purred. He fucking  _purred_ , like a goddamn  _cat_. The sound was so hot it snapped the small measure of control Jensen was still clinging to and sent it flying completely, and spectacularly, out the window.

“Never… Kiss… Another… Man… But… Me… Ever… Again…” he growled, placing kisses to Misha’s eyelids, his nose, his cheekbones, ghosting his bottom lip over the scruff on Misha’s cheek and nipping at his jaw. Marking him as his with lips and tongue and teeth. Letting the universe know that Misha Collins – all of his sticky outy bits, his flawlessly sculpted bits, his faulted and imperfectly perfect bits, and all the bits around and above and in between – belonged to Jensen Ackles. He worked his way along Misha’s jawline to his ear, drawing the lobe between his lips and nipping at it, and Misha sighed and clutched at Jensen’s hips, melding them together and pressing his growing length into the soft swell of Jensen’s belly. Jensen swallowed noisily, his breathing ragged and licked his ear, murmuring “Mish… I…”

Misha cut him off with a middle finger to his lips, dragging the nail down to expose the delicate inner flesh. “Jen?” he said hoarsely. “I love this side of you. I do. The possessiveness is…  _incredibly hot_ , actually.” He hummed low in his throat as Jensen flicked his tongue out to lick the tip of his finger and Jensen shivered, the primal sound shooting straight to his groin. “But babe? You talk too fucking much.” And with a growl he claimed his lips.

 

Kissing Misha was like dancing in a hurricane. It lifted you up, spun you around, and deposited you out the other side with no real memory of exactly what had happened, leaving you lightheaded and dizzy with only the vaguest sense that you had been hit by a force of nature. Jensen never  _quite_  knew what was going to happen next, but he’d given up trying to question it, he just let it roll over and consume him, swept away in Misha’s raw power like the storm he emulated. It was brutal and powerful and intense… and  _absolutely_  glorious.

Misha licked into his mouth, his tongue probing, and Jensen opened up to him, pressing against his firm, runners body and [rocking his hips](http://31.media.tumblr.com/31c83e5fc56e26d2e5d83d61a69e4818/tumblr_mpvro7rglq1rk3ieao8_r1_250.gif), moaning at the feel of Misha’s growing arousal rubbing against his own through the fabric of their clothing. Jensen nipped at Misha’s bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth, savoring the sound that Misha made, then trailed open-mouthed kisses across his jaw to the soft skin under his ear. Running his nose along the gentle curve, he nuzzled in and Misha shivered, tiny hairs on the nape of his neck standing to attention. He bit down on the lobe, hard enough to hurt, then soothed the sting with lips and tongue, tugging it into his mouth and sucking, tongue flicking out to invade the hollow before pulling back just enough that Misha felt the warmth of his breath on the wetness, a shudder running through his body.

Jensen licked and sucked his way down Misha’s throat, nuzzling in, his stubble scraping the sensitive skin and biting the graceful curve of his collarbone and Misha made a harsh, carnal noise, an almost snarl that went straight to Jensen’s cock. He reached up and carded his fingers into Misha’s hair, fingernails grazing his scalp, curling a clump around his fist and tugged his head back, exposing the elegant line of his throat. Running his tongue along the pulse point, bit down and drew the flesh into his mouth, sucking roughly, bruising him and marking him as  _his,_  only his. Misha arched his spine and strained against Jensen’s mouth, his fingers flying up to clutch at Jensen’s back. He slipped an arm around Misha’s waist, supporting him, and took a step backwards, pulling Misha along with him so they were freestanding in the middle of the small space.

With a last tug, Jensen slipped his fingers out of Misha’s hair and leant away slightly, sliding his hand down to rest on his clavicle and applied gentle pressure, forcing Misha to lean further backward. Misha settled one hand on Jensen’s arm to stabilize himself, grasped Jensen’s hip with the other and exhaled, closing his eyes and relaxing his body, leaning into the bend. Jensen slowly undid the fastenings of Misha’s shirt, exposing the smooth flesh of his upper body, then again pressing fingers to Misha’s collarbone.

Misha bowed effortlessly, his [extreme flexibility](http://38.media.tumblr.com/983a061483cea7727f3e48e2d5ca7246/tumblr_n68h6zspQO1s4obuko3_250.gif) allowing the action so that instead of looking awkward, he resembled some kind of magnificent, swan-like creature. Jensen had seen him do it before but it never ceased to fascinate him how Misha was able to adjust himself and slip effortlessly into a complete, full-bodied, almost meditative state, his body transforming and becoming sinuous and fluid. He was stunning. Feet planted firmly on the ground, legs spread slightly to anchor himself, back arched, and Jensen pulled back entranced, devouring him with his eyes, momentarily caught up in the graceful curve of Misha’s narrow waist and smooth stomach, hips slightly protruding, hand clutching at Jensen’s forearm, chest heaving with desire. His shirt hung open, the fabric draping down either side of his body, framing him –  _celebrating him_  – exquisitely.

He ran his hand up the middle of Misha’s torso, starting from the waistband of his jeans, then trailing over his flat tummy, delighting at the twitch of muscle under the skin. He curled his fingers, dragging his nails over Misha’s chest and tiny goosebumps broke out all over his exposed flesh. his nipples hardening into petite nubs. Jensen’s breath hitched at the sight, the small visual signs of his attentions and Misha’s reactions and obvious arousal making his cock ache painfully, precome seeping out to soak the inside of his boxers. He circled a fingertip around Misha’s nipple and flicked a fingernail across it, blinking at Misha’s sharp intake of breath then bent his head to mouth at it, rolling the nub between his teeth and laving it with his tongue. He bit down and Misha jerked against him and  _whined_. Jensen stilled in shock. Misha  _never_  whined. That was (embarrassingly) Jensen’s thing. He raised his head to look questioningly at him, eyes widening in contrition, desperately afraid he’d done something wrong, and Misha reacted instantly to the natural subservience in his eyes. He broke out of his pose, reached up and took control, fisting his hands in Jensen’s hair, jerking himself upright and crushing their lips together, catching Jensen’s lower lip in his teeth and biting, then licking into his mouth, rough and possessive, taking him,  _owning_ him. And with no more warning than a low grunt, abruptly flipping the tables on him.

Misha couldn’t handle not being in command for long and typically only allowed so much leeway before his inherent dominance took over. If Jensen was to be perfectly honest with himself, he’d admit he’d been craving it, pushing Misha further than he normally would in a subconscious attempt to get just this reaction. His stomach thrilled pathetically, and he flushed, suddenly humbled by the weakness and dependence his addiction to this man produced. Misha was like a drug, whittling away at Jensen’s control until he was nothing but a quivering, needy mess, blissed out on his high and begging for more. Willing to do anything for his next hit. It was heady and terrifying. And he loved it. 

Rising, Misha dug his fingers into Jensen’s biceps and manhandled him backwards into the shelving, Jensen’s breath oofed out of him and he slammed his head into the cold corner of the metal, but he barely even noticed because Misha was skilfully managing to distract him from the brief flare of pain by straddling his leg, slotting a knee between his thighs, the corded muscles of his leg providing  _oh so perfect_  friction against Jensen’s aching cock. Misha rocked slow and dirty against his thigh, rolling his hips like he was riding a horse. He threaded his fingers through Jensen’s and wrenched his arms above his head, pinning him, surging against him and ravaging his throat, his stubble grazing a hot blend of pleasure and pain up and over his Adam's apple to his ear, biting and sucking it into his mouth in an imitation of what Jensen had just done to him mere moments before. Trapping both of Jensen’s wrists in one hand, he held them above his head, devouring his mouth and rutting against him. Running his free hand down Jensen’s chest, he tugged his shirt free and plunged his fingers into the waistband of his slacks. It was Jensen’s turn to whine and he rocked his hips wantonly, the tips of Misha’s exceptionally talented fingers brushing the head of his leaking cock with every roll and buck of his hips. He whimpered and gasped, gut spasming _,_  wheezing into Misha’s mouth, and Misha drew back slightly, sweeping his lips back and forth over Jensen’s, inhaling his labored breaths and giving them right back to him, his own harsh and strained.

“Shhh, Jen.” Misha whispered against his lips, swallowing down his rough pants and Jensen blinked back at him, only the barest hint of green visible around pupils blown dark with lust and jerked his chin in a tight nod, clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth together to keep from crying out as Misha held his gaze, thumbing the button on his slacks open and unzipping them one-handed. He brushed the material aside, hooking into Jensen’s boxers with his thumb and tugging the damp material down under his balls, running his thumbnail back up along the length of his leaking cock and swiping across the tip, slicking precome over and around the head.

Jensen’s eyes fell shut and he lost himself to sensation, Misha swirling his thumb in an ever maddening dance, around the head, down under the glans, then up to swipe again over the slit and to gather a new bead of the sticky fluid, and start all over again. It was driving him wild. The fleeting touch was frustrating. He thrust upwards, craving Misha’s grasp, but Misha just chuckled low in his throat and danced his fingers away from Jensen’s desperate attempts to fuck into his hand.

“ _Please,_ ” he gasped, “ _Please_  Mish. I _need_ -” the word ended on a sob as Misha  _finally_  fisted his cock and pumped, sliding his hand up, twisting over the head, thumb slicking through the slit then skimming his fingers back down again. Misha let go suddenly and Jensen choked out a half-hysterical noise of protest, feeling abandoned he whined and jerked his hips, instinctively seeking, but Misha stole the sound away from him with a kiss, releasing Jensen’s wrists abruptly and dropping to his knees in front of him. Jensen lowered his arms and felt the blood rush back into his hands, the tingling of pins and needles just adding to the heightened hyper-aware state he’d been in since they’d entered the storeroom.

Misha reached behind him and hooked his fingers into the waistband of Jensen’s pants, tugging them down, his fingernails scratching over the curve of Jensen’s perfect ass and Jensen clenched up as Misha’s pinky ran down the crack, dipping in teasingly, before continuing to drop the fabric down around his ankles. He tapped Jensen’s feet one by one to get him to lift them, removing his shoes and socks and tossing them aside carelessly. Running his stubbled cheek up the sensitive skin of Jensen’s inner thigh, Misha smoothed his palms over his hips and around to cup his ass, fingers dipping into the cleft and pulling him closer. He ran the tip of his nose up to the head of Jensen’s cock, then down again and Jensen watched wide-eyed as Misha, nuzzled into his balls, inhaling the musky, slightly spicy scent in a primal, pure animalistic move, nostrils flaring as he blissed out on the heady fragrance that he had confessed to Jensen once, was and always would be, Jen at his core. He pulled back briefly and looked up into Jensen's eyes, then ran the tip of his [obscenely long tongue](http://33.media.tumblr.com/3a62e9e3b0756d430a435ac0a9568066/tumblr_nistzhoMhC1tch660o2_400.gif) over his top lip and grinned, and every X-rated thought that Jensen had ever had about that tongue slammed into him at once leaving him reeling.

He didn't quite curl it into the [shape of a pretzel](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/36600000/Misha-Collins-image-misha-collins-36673636-245-180.gif), Misha wouldn't be that crass during sex, but he did curl it over and around teasingly then, palming his balls and holding his gaze, oh. so. slowly. lowered his mouth and wrapped his lips around the head of Jensen’s cock where he began to undulate his tongue like a wave. Running it over and around the glans and through the slit, over and over again and  _holy fuck_ , Jensen gasped and rocked his hips up, the sensations each roll and flick evoked causing his eyes to roll back in their sockets. His head slammed against the shelving and he bit his lip, drawing blood, in an unsuccessful bid to stifle his loud moan.  _Jesus_ , he thought he was gonna come right then and there.

He reached down blindly and fisted his hands into Misha's hair, tugging on the strands, not guiding – Misha didn't need direction in THIS area – just enjoying the texture of Misha's hair curling around and sliding through and between his grasping fingers as he fucked into his mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of Misha’s throat, and Misha hummed low and dirty, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure ratcheting down his cock into his balls.

And when he looked down...  _Jesus_. Misha had only taken off Jensen’s slacks and boxers, he still had his shirt on and Misha had strategically undone the bottom two buttons of his shirt and arranged it so that the material framed the view like a picture. All he could see were the sleek lines of his crisp new black silk designer shirt, one they'd bought that very day from a tailor they visited regularly when in Rome, and Misha's messy bed head and pink lips moving lazily up and down on his cock, sparkling blue eyes blown black and half-drunk with desire, staring up at him. It was a stunning sight and it very nearly became his undoing.

Realizing Jensen was close, Misha drew back with a last swipe of his tongue through the slit of his cock and rose nimbly to claim Jensen’s lips, licking into Jensen’s mouth through his teeth to slick his tongue against Jensen’s. Jensen could taste himself and he moaned, the slightly bitter flavor way hotter than it had any right to be. Misha growled, and with a last lick into Jensen’s mouth, grabbed his shoulders, turning him so he faced the utilitarian steel shelving that was bolted to the wall. He ran his palms along Jensen’s biceps, threading their fingers together and wrapped his arms around him, crossing them and trapping Jensen’s arms against his chest. They stood, breathing together, Misha pressed tight against Jensen’s back, hard on pressing into the cheek of his ass, his strong arms holding him up as he nuzzled into Jensen’s neck and ran his nose along the shell of his ear. Breathing ragged he crooned, “I’m going to fuck you Jen, fuck you so good you’ll never question  _us_  again. You’re  _mine_  Jensen Ackles, you  _belong_  to me as I belong to you. I’m going to come inside you, fill you up so good. Nobody will ever be able to come between us because I’ll be part of you. Fused and bonded with your very essence.”

 

Jensen nearly passed out.

 

Misha raised their joined hands to place Jensen’s on the shelving in front of him. “Stay,” he ordered, and Jensen mewled, fingers curling around the steel obediently. “Good boy.” Misha praised, kissing his neck.

He ran his hands down Jensen’s sides and pushed his shirt up above his waist, then grasped his hips, pulled them towards him so that Jensen had to take a step backwards. Gliding his hands down Jensen’s legs, Misha grasped his ankles, moving his feet so they were positioned slightly apart.

“Perfect,” he murmured, “You’re so good for me Jen, so beautiful.” and Jensen felt a flush of pride run through him. Misha sank to his knees and smoothed his palms across the cheeks of Jensen’s ass, fitting his thumbs into the cleft and spreading them wide. “Stay still,” he ordered, pausing and watching for Jensen’s nod. “Good boy.”

Jensen froze at the first touch of Misha’s tongue to his hole and nearly dropped position. There was no warning, no lead up, just Misha’s mouth invading the space with hot wetness. His whole body clenched up instinctively, his back arched, cold steel biting into his palms where his hands curled around the shelving. Misha [licked into the opening](http://38.media.tumblr.com/a0acc7af2eb26e670d4738cfc7eebfa5/tumblr_mwizckrPB91sx29qro2_500.gif), diving in and pushing the tip of his tongue past the tight muscle without so much as a  _how-you-do_. He fucked into him, teeth occasionally grazing the sensitive skin, thumbs tracing circles on his ass cheeks and Jensen whimpered, pushing back against his mouth, cock throbbing and leaking pre-come with each thrust. Saliva dripped down his perineum to cover his balls and he could feel the rasp of Misha’s stubble against his sac each time he pushed his tongue into him. Misha reached between his legs and palmed his balls, fingering the teste’s through his sac and rolling them in his hand. He brought his other hand up to toy with Jensen’s perineum, swiping his fingers up and down through the slickness between licks, then pressing a finger inside.

Jensen moaned and bore down on his finger, wordlessly demanding more and Misha obliged, sliding his finger in up to the second knuckle, fucking his [obscenely long finger](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/ba/f2/53/baf2531a82df308d9d35e2c011e7e1ec.jpg) slowly in and out, grazing his prostate with his fingertip. Jensen jerked when he hit his sweet spot, squirming as heat raced through him to pool in his balls. Misha fucked his hole a few times, then slid a second finger alongside the first, burying them deeply inside, then stopping, fingers bottomed out in Jensen’s hole.

Jensen, caught up on a wave of desire, whimpered and bore down against his fingers, rocking his hips and whimpering, and Misha huffed unhappily. “Stay still Jen, you don’t want me to leave you like this do you?”

Jensen flushed and stilled, begging unashamedly “Fuck, no. Please, Mish. I'll be good. I need you to fuck me.  _Please_.”

“There’s my good boy. Soon baby, you can move when I tell you. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“So good for me Jen.” Misha praised and Jensen thrummed with pride.

Without withdrawing his fingers, Misha stood and moved slightly away. Jensen heard a clink and looked back to see him fumbling one-handed with his belt, wrenching the buckle undone, he made short work of the fly, his cock springing free as the loose pants slid from his hips and dropped to the ground. He kicked them away and fisted his cock, running his thumb through the pre-come dripping from the slit and raising it to his lips.

Jensen’s breath caught in his throat and he moaned.

“You can move now baby.” Misha told him and Jensen started, looking back over his shoulder questioningly, not quite understanding what he meant.

“Mish?”

“Move Jen,” Misha commanded, voiced raised over his harsh breathing. “Let me see you ride ‘em Cowboy.” Gasping with need, legs shaking, Jensen grasped the bars that framed the shelving to anchor himself and groaned. Starting out slowly he raised himself up, Misha’s fingers slipping almost all the way out, then bore down with a whimper, fucking himself with abandon on Misha’s [long, oh so talented fingers](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/3a/df/c9/3adfc9bb89735a0967b007f57bde0134.jpg) hole clenching when he slid down over the prominent bump of a knuckle and up again. He was so lost to sensation he barely noticed when Misha curled over him, rutting against his ass cheek and bit down hard on his shoulder muscle, murmuring sweet nothings in his ear. He did notice however, Misha start to pull his fingers away, and he made a loud inarticulate sound of protest, letting go of the bars with one hand and reaching blindly for Misha’s hand to stop him.

Misha chuckled hoarsely, kissing his neck and growling “Bad boy” into Jensen’s ear and grasped his chin, capturing his lips in a rough kiss, humming low and dirty into his mouth. Pulling away and lining up behind him, he pressed the head of his cock against Jensen’s ass, dragging the head down the cleft then up again and Jensen pressed back against him, seeking, craving the fullness, the  _completeness_  that Misha being inside him brought.

Misha braced one foot on a shelf, the other planted firmly on the floor and steadied himself, and Jensen gasped as the head of Misha’s cock breached his rim, and Misha groaned as he slid agonizingly slowly into him. Using his thumbs, he spread Jensen’s cheeks wider and crooned, “You’re so perfect like this Jen, taking me inside you. Legs spread wide, back arched beautifully. So, so perfect. All open and wet. All for me.”

Jensen’s gut clenched at the praise and he let out an embarrassing whine. “Yes,” he whimpered, “All for you.”

 

So Misha claimed him.

 

Sliding his cock almost all the way out, Misha thrust back into him with a moan, fingers like a vice on Jensen’s hips to hold him steady as he moved. His thrusts were measured and controlled and Jensen felt every inch, his hole quivering and clenching with Misha’s timed movements. They found a rhythm, Jensen sliding down, and Misha rocked his hips, fucking up into him, filling him up, balls slapping against Jensen’s ass with each thrust. Their position wasn’t allowing Misha’s cock to hit Jensen’s prostate nearly enough and he whined in frustration, shifted slightly, trying to get into a position that would give him the relief he craved. Misha realized what was happening and growled “Stay”, then moved to angle himself better, planting both feet solidly on the ground and bending his knees, bottoming out, his balls slapping against Jensen’s ass and Jensen mewled in pleasure, meeting him thrust for thrust, the head of Misha’s cock grazing the swollen gland every time he snapped his hips. Jensen’s vision whitened, awareness narrowing to Misha’s velvety cockhead dragging repeatedly over his prostate and the pressure building at the base of his spine. His cock hung full and heavy between his legs, leaking, precome dripping down his leg. His face was pressed hard into the metal bars but he didn’t even notice, Misha’s cock sliding in and out of him, filling him up was all he craved, all he needed. It was exquisite, it was transcendent. It was everything.

Misha’s thrusts were becoming erratic, he slammed into Jensen, jerking his hips fast and dirty and chanting nonsensical words, insults and praise melding together into a steady stream of obscenities, Misha’s lewd dialogue making Jensen’s stomach thrill. It was beautiful and dirty and  _hot as fuck_  and Jensen’s hole spasmed around Misha’s shaft as he teetered on the edge, balls aching for release. Misha reached around and fisted Jensen’s wet cock, jerking in time with his thrusts and  _Jesus Christ._  Jensen rocked himself back onto Misha’s cock then fucked forward into his fist, chasing his orgasm and it only took two thrusts before he came violently in Misha’s hand with a wail, the noise slipping through his lips involuntarily. Semen exploded out of him in hot spurts, striping the shelving in front of him before dripping through the gaps to pool on the floor at his feet. Misha heaved him upright, immobilizing him with an arm like a steel band across his chest, gripping his chin, driving into him and kissing him through his orgasm, biting down on his bottom lip and catching the sound of Jensen’s undoing in his mouth and inhaling it, jealously claiming it for himself. Storing it away in the vault of Jensen to bring out later at will and relive. Jensen blinked back at him, green eyes blown dark and clouded with his release and Misha lost himself, mindlessly babbling “[I love you](http://31.media.tumblr.com/1a809ee75d1219a992ff3f4c04bf52e4/tumblr_mref67gEaP1swemsfo1_500.gif)” over and over into Jensen’s mouth and following him over the edge with a guttural moan, panting and shuddering, and Jensen rocked him through it, Misha stuttering to a halt with a final snap of his hips and a sob.

 

Jensen flexed his cramped and sore fingers and stretched around behind him, hooking his arms around Misha’s back and Misha pulled him closer, cradling him from behind, murmuring under his breath, soothing him and telling him how perfect and wonderful and beautiful he was. How good he was. Boosting him up and easing him down from his high. Looking after him. They stood, pressed close and panting, holding each other up as they came down and kissing gently. Jensen murmured “I love you too MIsh” against Misha’s lips and Misha smiled sweetly at him and whispered, “I know”.

 

Misha was the first to move, sliding out of Jensen he buried his nose in his hair for a moment, inhaling deeply then pulling back and brushing a kiss to the nape of his neck, turning away to pick up his jeans. Shucking them on and buttoning up his shirt, he kissed Jensen’s nose, laughing at the way he screwed up his face in response. “Come on Cowboy,” he slapped his ass and grinned, and Jensen flushed. “We’ve got a plane to catch.” And he winked at him, grabbed his jacket, opened the door and left, leaving Jensen standing there, naked from the waist down, laughing at Misha and his weirdness.

 

He looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time the red indentations on his skin. Raising his fingers to his face he ran them tentatively over his flesh, ghosting his fingertips over the noticeable marks of his submission shining like a beacon on his cheek as well as his palms. He grimaced, wondering how he was gonna explain this one to the guys, then shifted uncomfortably as the motion caused Misha’s semen to start leaking out of his hole, snaking a path down the back of his thigh. Sighing and grabbing a roll of toilet paper from the shelf, he cleaned himself up, wondering idly where the hell his life had taken such a huge turn that he found himself alone and half-naked in a dusty supply closet at the Rome International Airport, having just had his brains well and truly fucked out by one Misha Collins.

“Well, fuck.” Stooping gingerly to gather up his pants, he chuckled to himself, already plotting his revenge for having been abandoned so abruptly. He was sure he could think of something, he had a year before the next JibCon after all.

 

He laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all as he dressed, head thrown back with an abandon that only Misha seemed to be able to coax out of him. Eventually lapsing into chuckles and shaking his head fondly, he muttered lowly to himself as he left the room and hurried off to catch his flight; unknowingly echoing the words and thoughts of fans around the world. A loving distortion of the same words he himself had uttered numerous times on the Italian stage.

“ _Misha fucking Collins ladies and gentlemen. Give him a round of applause.”_

 

 

~fin~

 

 

Blue Eyes

by Elton John

 

Blue eyes  
Baby's got blue eyes  
Like a deep blue sea  
On a blue blue day  
Blue eyes  
Baby's got blue eyes  
When the morning comes  
I'll be far away  
And I say  
  
Blue eyes  
Holding back the tears  
Holding back the pain  
Baby's got blue eyes  
And she's alone again  
  
Blue eyes  
Baby's got blue eyes  
Like a clear blue sky  
Watching over me  
Blue eyes  
I love blue eyes  
When I'm by her side  
Where I long to be  
I will see  
  
Blue eyes laughing in the sun  
Laughing in the rain  
Baby's got blue eyes  
And I am home, and I am home again

**Author's Note:**

> Jensen and Misha,
> 
> This is my third fic now featuring you two and I’m no longer sorry. You bring it on yourselves.
> 
> Never change you magnificent bastards. Cockle on my loves, Cockle on.
> 
> Brea xxx
> 
> ~*~
> 
> MY Dearest, Darling, DASettes, 
> 
> I’m so sorry guys, this is so totally not what you asked for but it kinda took on a life of its own as I wrote it and, well… fuck. I hope you like it anyways.
> 
> Brea xxx
> 
> P.S. I used some of what I wrote in the original thread idea. It was deliberate. I hope you don’t mind.
> 
> P.P.S. Apparently I can’t write porn without plot.
> 
> P.P.S.S. I also apparently can’t write plot without history. 
> 
> P.P.P.S.S. Nor can I write history without accuracy.
> 
> P.P.P.S.S.S. Being accurate sucks balls.
> 
> P.P.P.P.S.S.S. Like Misha.
> 
> P.P.P.P.S.S.S.S. Just saying.
> 
> Side note: Here’s an additional bit of brain fuckery for you. Apparently I am a sub, who writes as a Dom, but from the sub’s POV. And I thought being poly/pan was confusing… Yeah, nope. My brain's all like, have some weird and conflicting Dom POV muthafukkaaa. Sheesh. o.O
> 
> P.P.P.P.P.S.S.S.S. I really should stop saying apparently.
> 
> P.P.P.P.P.S.S.S.S.S. Apparently.
> 
> P.P.P.P.P.P.S.S.S.S.S. Ok I’m done.


End file.
